


Look! It's a bird, It's a bad Airplane crack fic!

by The_Supervillains_Goatee



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Batman (Comics), DCU, Smallville, Smallville Season 11 (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Teen Titans, X-Men - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Bad Fic, Black Comedy, Language, mention of non-con and domestic violence on chapter 7
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-01-09 05:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Supervillains_Goatee/pseuds/The_Supervillains_Goatee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dimensional hinkyness is going on in the DCU! Smallville's mirror box world has disappeared or merged into the main one! The Forever Evil crossover event has sent the Teen Titans into a journey into the future possibly never to return (since their book was cancelled).  Wally West was taken by the Speed Force in Young Justice: Invasion and deposited...where?</p><p>Disclaimer: Don't own, no profit, fun only.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. “Excuse me, madam, I speak Jive.”

**Author's Note:**

> Current event in Smallville Season 11: Barbara Gordon is Nightwing and Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damien seem to be non-existant. Who will be Batman's "Robin"? Plus, a doppelgänger of Clark Kent has turned up dead in Gotham! Is it Clark Luthor? The Ultraman from the Forever Evil comic event? Some other Super-Schmuck? Will Bart Allen ever return to Smallville?

The Mirror-box world was dissolving into theirs or so the Monitor claimed before the Anti-Monitor finished her off for good.  For some time now their world had been receiving refugees from that mirror reality. In some cases they had traversed via transporter or spaceship. Others simply dropped through holes in the fabric of reality. One day Martha Clark and Jon Kent and Clark Luthor stumbled out of an alley in Metropolis and back into Clark’s life. Clark Kent was surprised to see Clark Luthor alive. Several weeks previously, a dead man dressed as Superman was found on the streets of Gotham. When Batman created a composite of his features both he and the Justice League were shocked to see that the dead man was not just dressed as Superman, he also looked just like him too! The Justice League speculated this was Clark Luthor from the Mirror-box world. His body was too mangled to make out the “L” scar on his arm but if it was not Clark Luthor, who could it be?

There was another large shock when Martha Clark and Martha Kent met. The ladies had reached out and shook hands and suddenly there was only one Martha where there had been two. She had the memories of both Marthas as the Chloe of this reality now had the memories of her Mirror-box counterpart. Clark Kent rushed her to Fortress of Solitude where the AI theorized that people would also merge into one being if they touched since they came from mirror realities. The AI also stated that other realities apart from theirs were experiencing incursions caused by Anti-Monitor activities and other guests could be expected in future. Most would not survive the transition into this reality. Likely they would only have to worry about individuals merging if they came from the Mirror-box world.

Clark Luthor decided that he’d prefer not risking accidently merging with Clark Kent and took off for another reality that had stabilized. Clark Kent was not sad to see him go and took off to the Justice League to inform them his “reformed” evil twin had left and what to expect if they encountered any visitors from another reality.

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~

 

Bruce Wayne and Barbara Gordon listened to the Watchtower report concerning the end of the Mirror-Box world. Just what Gotham didn't need; multiple Jokers, Killer Crocs, Banes and Penguins running about. It also made him wonder who the dead Superman doppelgänger found on Gotham’s streets was. If the dead man wasn’t Clark Luthor from Earth II, then who was he?

“Master Bruce, I require your assistance upstairs in the kitchen”, Alfred Pennyworth voice came down to Bruce and Barbara via the intercom. “It seems we have guests, sir.”

Bruce and Barbara exchanged looks and were up the stairs and out of the Batcave in a heartbeat.

Alfred was pouring milk and passing a plate of cookies to two young men. They were wearing traditional Superman and Batman costumes from the waist up. From the waist down it was eye-searing, polyester bell-bottoms.

“Who are they?” The Batman got straight to the point.

“They call themselves Superman Junior and Batman Junior.” answered his Alfred.

“What are your names?” asked Barbara Gordon a.k.a. Nightwing.

“Superman Jr!”

“Batman Jr!”

This earned Bruce some side-eye from Barbara. “No, I want to know your _real_ names.”

Baby Bat piped up, “We’re hippin’ you, _maaan_!”

“Maybe they want to keep their secret identities a secret.”  Nightwing whispered to Alfred and Bruce, “They might not know who we are or trust us.”

Superman Jr. broke in, “We’re hep to you, bunny! We got the lowdown!”

“Are you afraid to tell us your real names?”

“We gave you our handles!” Superman Junior looked exasperated. “Super-sons, can you dig it?”

“Your actual personal names are Superman Junior and Batman Junior?” Alfred couldn’t believe his ears!

“ _Why_ would you be named _that_?”, Nightwing asked. “ _Who_ would name you that?”

“Big Bat and Boyscout named us!” Batman Jr. was indignant. “We’re Super-sons!”

 Bruce had an epiphany, “Are you clones? Like Kon-El?”

“Clones?” Superman Jr was offended. “Say, jack, sit on it! The toads aren’t that psychedelic!”

“So you’re not clones?”

“Mega-negatori, cheeto!”

“Whiskey. Foxtrot. Tango”, Barbara looked first at one and then the other. “What _language_ are these guys speaking?”

“A type of slang called Jive.” Replied Batman.

Batman Jr. looked at Superman Jr and whispered, “Squaresville, man.”

“So who are your parents?” Barbara asked. “Superman? Batman? What are your mothers’ names?”

“No Mama Bear in our den, Tee Cee Eff Ess!”

“You have no mothers but you have fathers?”, this caused Alfred to raise any eyebrow.

Nightwing asked, “Are you sure you aren't clones?”

“Huh?”

“Perhaps you are familiar with Cadmus Labs?”

“Cad- _who_?” The Super-sons were clearly baffled.

“We have a failure to communicate.” Barbara sighed.

“Excuse me, madam, I speak Jive.” Alfred cleared his throat. “Allow me to translate.”

There was a murmuring of disbelief from the others, “Alfred speaks _jive_?”

 Alfred turned to the Super-sons, “Say, jack?. How dun did ya' git here?”

Superman Jr. rolled his eyes and said, “Big Bat and S’downerman wuz hangin' at the Ice 99.”

“So help me, brutha!”, replied Batman Jr. with a nod. “It’s the bible!”

“They wuz Buddy Ghees from way back and likesd t'chill between gigs in the boondocks.” Superman Jr. continued with their story. “And when they jumped into port they’d rehearse for new gigs.”  

“Supe Daddy and Big Bat decided to clickity click and see what kind of honky pigs they could breed.”

Alfred nodded and turned to Bruce and Barbara, “The Batman and Superman of another reality called Earth-154 were relaxing in the Fortress of Solitude. They have been friends and crime-fighting partners for many years and often retired there between cases. While there, they’d often run through potential scenarios on the AI. One day they decided to see what the likely outcome of passing their respective mantles on to their hypothetical offspring.”

“You’re kidding?”, Batman was incredulous.

“No, cat.” Alfred replied, “Say seven up!”

“Truth, brutha! Truth!”, exclaimed Superman Jr.

Batman Jr., “He’s not lyin’, Turkey!”

Nightwing leaned forward, “You said ‘hypothetical’ offspring? How can they be only hypothetical? They’re living breathing people, aren’t they?”

“What a fry, _Maaaan_!” Superman Jr. accented his eyeroll with a snort of disgust. “The clicker broke and everything got freaky deaky!”

“Man, we were trippin’ balls!” Batman Jr. shook his head. “When the clicker went jelly brain, we decided to blow that taco stand!”

“There arrival into the real world was accidental. The AI malfunctioned and brought them to life. They were shocked by this turn of events and fled the Fortress.” Alfred told the other two. He turned to the jive turkeys known as the Super-sons, “Youngblood, after you Audi’d outta there, who’s pad did you crash?”

“Us bubblegummers pounded cobbles for the mistake on the lake. Astronaut and Smokey Bear flipped on the disco lights and put the ‘bosh on our famoo confab. We boogied back to squaresville and the clicker bugged out. Mofo layin’ us to the bone. Hotboxes us with some bunk blaze and slide to the left side!”

“The young men took off for the big city for excitement which they found. Superman and Batman extricated them from it and returned them to the Fortress. There they were told that they were warping reality itself because they were never meant to exist. The AI created a chamber that was supposed to disintegrate them with poisonous gas but instead transported them to another reality.”

“Did they say why Batman and Superman of Earth-154 wanted to kill them?” Batman was looking rather grim.

“Maaaan! Whack jive. The Jock goes around with the Grueler and the rabbit died, what it iz!”

“They were rather embarrassed by their accidental offspring. It seems that other Superman and Batman are somewhat homophobic and were rather ashamed about the gossip that would arise from the sons’ conception.”

“They also believed that they could not protect the world from the Super-Sons”, said Alfred. “Nor could they protect the boys from their world and felt they had no other choice but to dispose of them.”

“Solid give me my kicks, Crawford Ran”, said Batman Jr. He stood up and floated toward the ceiling. “Triple digit ride! Freak me out!”

“They have also discovered they are more than just spiritual brothers. Batman Junior has developed the same powers as Superman Junior. They speculate their DNA came solely from Bruce Wayne and Kal-El since they failed to program mothers for the Super-sons.”

“You two can understand what we’re saying perfectly?” asked Bruce.

“We dig, cat! Mama didn’t raise no dummies!”

Supeman Jr. giggled, “Mama din’t raise _nobody_ at all!”

“Can you please speak like we do?”, Nightwing begged.

“Cornfed, you are off the cob!”

Alfred cleared his throat, “Sirs, for the rest of your stay perhaps it would best if you axed the jibber jabber.”

The Super-sons sighed and said, “Fine, turkey, harsh our mellow!”

Bruce flipped his communicator on, “Watchtower, about those inter-dimensional visitors you told me to keep an eye out for? Well, I have some and I’m going to need Superman.”

Almost immediately a _whoosh_ of displaced air and a knocking at the kitchen door and the Bat-Family tensed until they heard Clark say, “It’s me! And I’ve brought Chloe!”

Alfred opened the door and ushered them into the room. Clark and Chloe looked at the Super-sons curiously.

“Master Kent, it appears you’ve gotten Master Wayne in the family way.”

Chloe turned to Clark. “What is it with you and the genetic love children, already?”


	2. Did he ever find those brownies in North Dakota?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember when Superboy, er, I mean, Ultraman, wait, I mean when _H-El_ punched reality?

** Because There’s No Such Thing As Bad Time With Batman of Shanghai **

****

“Sir, there now appears to be a pagoda in the rose garden.” Alfred was holding a tray of cookies and milk.

Bruce, Barbara, Chloe and the Super-sons swiveled to look at him. Clark merely looked up and out of the Batcave in the direction of the rose garden. “Yep, and guy from a kung fu movie just turned into bats and flew off after a ninja wearing a Bane kabuki mask.”

Batman and Nightwing leapt to their feet and ran over to the Batplane and took off in pursuit. Clark paused to take a cookie from Alfred before following them out.

Chloe shrugged and went back to the DNA test results. The Juniors glommed onto the cookies and milk.

“Should we follow them?” asked the newly renamed Bruce Wayne Jr.

“Young Master Bruce, I think your putative fathers can handle this.”

Just then, Chloe’s cell started ringing. “Hello, this is Watchtower, how can I help you?”

“Oh?” She said reaching for scratch paper. “Oh, really?” She started jotting down notes.

“Well, okay. I’ll pass it along to Clark.”

“Sure. Well, he’s kind of busy right now. Are you sure the rest of the Justice League can’t handle it?”

“Okay, well, then I’ll have him meet you at the Fortress.”

She turned to the others who were listening to Chloe’s side of the conversation. “Well, that was the AI at the Fortress of Solitude. It seems there was another anomaly. A speedster just came shooting through some kind of dimensional rift and plowed into the side of the Fortress.”

“Master Bartholomew has returned from the Speed Force?”

“Apparently not. It’s some other guy dressed like the Flash. Since he’s broken every bone in his body and is comatose, he hasn’t been able to tell the AI who he is.”

“If you think Master Clark is needed in the Arctic, I believe Master Bruce and Miss Gordon can handle Gotham.”

“What about these two?” Chloe gestured toward the Super-Sons. “Can you handle them by yourself?”

“I do believe that the young gentlemen and I will be fine. They seem to have been programmed into believing I am an authority figure who must be obeyed when Master Bruce or Master Clark are not around.”

“Huh, the Superman and Batman of Earth-154 were less moronic than I thought.” Chloe looked at Bruce’s newly acquired wards. “Well, I’ll call Clark and Connor to come pick me up and leave you and the Bats to it.”

~~~~~~~

 

** That Time The Robins Got Beat Up By Bird Watchers **

Higbee Beach, Cape May, NJ

Dr. Oswald Cobblepot, emeritus professor of ornithology, had for years longed to spot B95, a rare rufa red knot dubbed "The Moon Bird". He and all the other birders were breathlessly awaiting for sight of the rare shorebird. How glorious would it be to finally see, in person, the migratory _Calidris canutus rufa_ that had over the past 20 years had traveled a distance equal to a journey to the moon and halfway back again? Oswald squeed internally because it would be very, very glorious!

A smallish, brownish shorebird fluttered down to the beach and began foraging in the sand for horseshoe crab eggs. The bird watchers silently and slowly focused their binoculars on their quarry and prayed that the little fellow would give them a clear view of his leg band. Some twenty feet above the head of the bird a sort of distortion appeared in the air. The distortion went entirely unnoticed until several people in Holloween costumes plummeted out of thin air and down onto the beach where the Moonbird had been feeding.

The costume party hauled themselves to their feet and began slapping sand off themselves and taking stock of their situation while horrified bird watchers gaped in silence. The one wearing a white skull mask with a red “X” on it attempted to scrape blood, guts, and feathers off his trousers. He made a face and said, “Damn it, just my luck to hit a pigeon on the way down!”

Dr. Oswald Cobblepot, emeritus professor of ornithology saw red.

 

 

 

~~~~~~

** The Difficulties Of Crime Fighting In Suburbia **

The day was sunny and bright without being too hot. People had shed their winter clothes for shorts and t-shirts. It was tourist season. People were out and about enjoying the weather. Families could be seen crowding the shore.

One rather strange tourist family had invaded the Cape May County Library instead. They’d conferred quietly in the lobby for a few moments and split into three groups. One headed for the atlases and another headed for the history stacks. The last bunch took over the computer terminal. They then hauled their chosen materials to a table and began flipping through books and copies, taking notes, scanning maps, and quietly arguing amongst themselves.

Lyle Bolton found them deeply suspicious. Patrons aged ten to sixteen were a problematic, rowdy group which required strict supervision. This particular group of youngsters looked like it was shaping up to be TROUBLE in all caps. They didn’t act or look like regular library patrons. They were wearing clothing which seemed to cover up a great deal of skin. Cold weather clothing that wasn’t appropriate for the season. They were also rather scuffed up. More than one had the beginnings of an impressive shiner. Lyle just bet they were here to steal books, graffiti the bathrooms with a sharpie, or do something unseemly in the Young Adult fiction. He had to glare at them several times for raising their voices. He’d be damned if they pulled something on _his_ watch!

The blonde girl said, “So what happened? Where’s Gotham? Did it sink into the ocean or something?”

“It migrated inland twelve hundred miles.”

“Good lord! It landed in Cleveland?”

“No, it’s in Kansas. You can see it from Metropolis on a clear day.”

“Sheesh! Where’s Blüdhaven? In New York?”

Lyle heard the middle-sized boy say, “Blüdhaven is in the same place but they renamed it!”

“What? Why?”

“Tourists. They renamed it to attract tourists!” The oldest boy sighed. “They’re calling it Little Egg Harbor. It’s all beachy and pastel and people retire there!”

“What? No! You’re kidding!”

"I wish I were. They haven't had a murder in _four_ years!"

"What!?"

"Yes, really. Their police department seems dedicated to handling petty theft and _traffic_ violations!"

"That, that's insane!"

“No kidding. It’s _awful_. Just awful. It’s a _suburb_! They have height ordinances to protect the ocean view.”

"How do you repel off a one story building? _How_?"

"You don't!"

"It gets worse!"

" _How_?"

"Arkham Asylum has been converted into luxury condos."

"Wut?"

" _Luxuuuuury_ Condos", the blonde girl rolled it around on her tongue like a fine wine.

"No. Just, _no_!"

"Let that roll around in your head and marinate for a moment. The population of Conneticut is sane enough that they can shut down their largest mental health facilities, turn the inmates loose, and turn their former home into condos for well-heeled yuppies."

"Unbelievable. Just %$#@ unbelievable."

“Christ. This just gets worse and worse. Next thing you know, you’ll be telling me Lex Luthor is president.”

“Well, actually….”

“OH!! YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!”

‘Ah, ha!’ Lyle thought with glee. ‘Out you go!’

 

 

 

~~~~~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Danvers State Hospital, the real world inspiration for Arkham Asylum and an HP Lovecraft story, really was turned into luxury condos. The development has been re-named 'Avalon Communities'.


	3. I am vengeance. I am the night. I am Bat-Cow's side kick.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because no bad-fic is complete without a visit from the whole family.

The Batcave was packed to the rafters. Members of the Justice League had scoured the building for every available chair and seat they could lay hands on and had dragged them downstairs.

Senior Citizen Batman parked himself next to the McGinnis family. On his other side was a teenaged Dick Grayson and Batgirl. In the row behind them was Lady Bat, Brenda Wayne had her version of Jason Todd seated next to her on one side and Red-X on the other. Carrie Kelley and the Bat-Boys were sharing a row with Thomas Grayson. The Pennyworth ladies parked themselves near Aunt Harriet.  Older Tim Drake parked himself amongst Stephanie Brown and Cassandra Cain and the Teen Titans and Young Justice. James Gordon III and Robert Chang lounged against the Batmobile. Mademoiselle Wayne and Helena Wayne chatted amicably in French about the merits of _Savate_. Thomas Wayne III loitered near where Thomas Wayne the Second was talking to Thomas I and Martha Wayne. John Blake and Maggie Sawyer and Renee Montoya were happily griping about the failings of the GCPD. Bette, Kathy, and Kate Kane were in front of them working out a multiverse timeline and family tree on a napkin. Tallant Wayne sized up the assorted Robins and smirked. Across the aisle perched Oracle and her Birds of Prey along with various Outsiders and the Batmen of all Nations. Nightfire and Taylor Wayne were playing a vigorous game of aerial tag above everyone’s heads.

“Well, that has to be it.” Barbara said to Batman as she ushered the fourth Bruce Wayne Junior down into the cave. “We can’t possibly wedge anyone else in.”

"The Justice League is working on plugging up the holes in reality and finding a way to send these people home."

"What if they're stuck here indefinitely?"

"It means I have the boys start assembling bunkbeds from Ikea because we're going to be stuck with a lot of house guests."

At that moment Alfred entered the cave leading a young boy by the hand. He was at least the fourth or fifth person dressed like a circus acrobat. Thankfully wearing trousers instead of hotpants or tights.

"Father, I have come to join you at your side."

"Er, okay, you're my son?"

"Yes, Father, your son Damien. Your son and heir."

Barbara said, "His heir? All _riiiiight_."

Damien ignored her. 'Silly woman.'

"Well, okay, then Damien, go ahead and join the others."

"You can't mean Grayson, Todd, and Drake?"

"Well, them too."

"Too?"

Bruce gestured toward the Super-Sons, "Well, there's my sons with Superman and then there's the Bruce Wayne Jr I had with Julie Madison, the one I had with Selena Kyle, and the one I had with Kathy Kane, and then there's -"

Damien shrieked in rage and collapsed to his knees. "It's not faaaair! There can be only one!"

"Sir, I believe you might want to confiscate Master Damien's sword. He seems to be under the impression he's The Highlander."

 


	4. conscientious objectors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Nu52 Superboy was made from the DNA of Jon Lane Kent (Clark Kent and Lois Lane's son) and a third person. He won't be appearing in this fic although he did inspire it _sort of_.

 

**Top 10 Things To Do In Gotham The Visitor's Bureau Doesn't Tell You About**

“Are you jerkin’ me, _maaan_?”

“No, absolutely no killing!”

“We are not criminals. We prevent crime. We don’t commit them.”

“So anything _but_ killing is cool?”

“Well, I suppose –“

“Say for instance the Joker was threatening to dump Joker venom into the water supply and murder half of Gotham, it would be totally cool to curb stomp him to jelly, right?”

“Well, if it was the only way to stop him—“

“Or, say he’s got this bright idea to wallop one of upside the head with a mallet made of Kryptonite, you'd be chill with us using our laser vision to set him on fire from across the room?”

“Oh, no problem there!”

“Or if the Joker gang is in a shoot-out with the Gotham PD, it would be completely okay to pick up a garbage dumpster, fly it up ten stories, and then drop it on their heads?”

  
“Ten stories might be a bit much.”

“Oh, yeah, no killing. Right....But dropping it on them from a non-lethal height is perfectly kosher?”

“To save lives, yes.”

“So we can do _anything_ we want to stop the criminals from committing crimes as long as they aren’t dead when we’re done?”

“I wouldn’t say _any_ amount of force—“

“I’m talking about _non-lethal_ force. Any amount of non-lethal force is perfectly fine, right?”

“Well, yes, but-“

“This really isn’t very funny”, said the Joker who was being dangled upside down by his ankles by the Super-Sons. Batman Junior and Superman Junior a.k.a. Bruce Jr and Clark Jr had each gripped an ankle and had planned on tearing him apart like a wishbone. He hadn’t counted on Batman’s latest protégés being part Kryptonian, so his plot to murder them went awry almost immediately.

“Shut up, Clown, or we’ll launch you into the sun!”

The Clown Prince of Crime shut up. He was crazy, not stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the comment thread on this Scans_Daily post.
> 
> "Look on the bright side, the third DNA strand might be Wonder Woman's, that way EVERYONE'S happy... or, y'know... not."  
> "the third DNA strand is CLEARLY batman's"
> 
> http://scans-daily.dreamwidth.org/4304624.html


	5. Howdy, Pilgrim!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Useless Trivia Unrelated To Story:** Phyllis Coates played Lois Lane during the first season of the Adventures of Superman tv show in 1952. She later played Lois’ mother, Ellen Lane, on Lois  & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman for one episode in 1994. Noel Neill played Lois Lane in the Superman film serials of the 50’s and the later seasons of Adventures of Superman. Ms. Neill then played Ella Lane in the 1978 Superman. She has also played a small role on the 1991 Superboy tv show and another in Superman Returns in 2006. Teri Hatcher played Lois Lane on Lois & Clark and then later played Ella Lane on Smallville. Annette O’Toole played Lana Lang in Superman III and then Martha Kent on Smallville. One of her early acting jobs was on the tv show My Three Sons along with Beverly Garland, the actress who went on to play Ellen Lane on the later seasons of Lois & Clark.

 

 

 

**HOWDY, PILGRIM**

 

Lois and Clark exited their station wagon, smoothed their clothing out, and retrieved a foil-covered casserole dish and cut flowers from the trunk. They looked at one another, sighed, and then turned and marched up to the front door of Wayne Manor and halted. Lois was dour and Clark was nervous.

“Well, do you want to ring it or should I?”

Clark leaned toward the door buzzer, finger extended, but before he could the door swung open and Alfred greeted them with, “Master Kent and Ms. Lane, we’ve been expecting you. Most of the others have already arrived.”

“I hope we’re not late.”

“Not at all, sir. You have arrived right on time.”

Alfred ushered them into the house. “You’ve brought a hot dish? And flowers? How thoughtful.”

“It’s peach cobbler. My mother’s recipe.”

“Very good, sir, I’m sure Master Wayne and the lads will appreciate it.”

“Fantastic”, said Lois without much enthusiasm.

“Shall I take your coats?”

“Can we help you with anything, Alfred?”

“No, thank you, sir! Just follow me into the dining room, Sir and madam.”

“Sure.”

“Now if you’ll place the cobbler on the sideboard, I’ll put the flowers in water.”

“Is there any--?”

“Everything is perfectly under control, sir. I have the young masters assisting me. You will find your names on the place card holders on the table.”

Alfred genteelly hustled Clark and Lois into the dining room. They were faced with the absurdly long Wayne dining table that could double as an aircraft carrier. It had been sectioned into two parts with one end for ‘Justice Leaguers’ and the other for ‘Teen Titans’. Appetizer trays scattered about along its length.  Already seated was Bruce Wayne, of course, Martha Kent and Jonathon, Conner Kent and Match and Cir-El, a few members of the Justice League and Titans in civvies, Lillian Luthor…and Lex Luthor. The real Lex Luthor. He was wearing a cheesy toupee and a fake mustache but it was really, really him. Not the Lex made from clone parts or one from an alternate reality. _Real_ Lex.

“LUTHOR!”, Clark bellowed when he spotted him. Everyone paused and turned to stare.

“Sheesh, _what_ , Clark?”¸ Lex paused with a parmesan pinwheel halfway to his mouth.

“Er, nothing actually! Sorry! It’s a force of habit now! I was just a bit surprised to see you here.”

“Pfft!” Luthor returned to munching appetizers. “I hadn’t planned on joining you but the kids wanted to spend the holiday with the _whole_ family.”

“Oh, thank you for coming! It really is good to see you again. Looking so lively and healthy and, and…well, _alive_.”

Lois grumbled something that sounded like a _very_ sarcastic ‘fantastic’.

“Thank Wayne. He invited me.”

“Oh, yes, Bruce, thank you so _very_ much—“

“Wrong Wayne, Boy Scout”, said Kal Luthor with an evil smirk as sauntered in behind Lois and Clark.

“What the hell are you doing back here? I thought we got rid of you for good!”

“ _Dear_ , Lois, you’re so very funny! I couldn’t _possibly_ stay away forever!”

“So you’re back for a visit for the holidays? Lovely.”

Kal held up his left hand and flashed an indecently expensive looking wedding ring. “Oh, I was only planning on dropping by for a short visit to The Fortress but as soon as Jor-El informed me of the twins existence I just had to meet them. And when I met Bruce Junior and Kal Junior, I also met Bruce.”

“Love blossomed”, Alfred stated dryly.

Lois shuddered and made a gagging noise. “Urk, I just threw up in my mouth a little.”

Clark just looked poleaxed.

“Bruce arranged for us to fly out to New York this week. He made me an honest Kryptonian. You’re looking at the newly wed Misters Bruce and Kal Luthor-Wayne!”

All the other adult guests politely murmured the appropriate ‘Congratulations’ to the happy couple. The juveniles were too busy dicking around with their mp3 players and cell phones and scarfing canapés at their end of the table to bother.

“Hold your allies close and your enemies _closer_ , right Lex?” Bruce’s grin was almost as wicked as Kal Luthor-Wayne’s was.

“Aha, ha, ha” was Lex’s response.

Lois Lane’s was, “Bah!” and she made for the wet bar.

“Oh, well thank you for having us all over!”

“Clark, it really was no problem. After all, he’s my _sort of_ brother.”

There was more surly grumbling from Lois who was vigorously and aggressively shlinking a cocktail shaker up and down.

“What? I didn’t catch that, Ms. Lane!”

“Nothing”, she replied whilst dumping a mostly vodka-based beverage into a large glass.

“No, I’m absolutely sure I heard you say _something_!”

“Not. A. Damn. Thing” Lois gritted out. She slugged back her cocktail.

“Darling!”

“No, Clark! Everything is just peachy-keen! _Really_. Really, it is!”

“Lois, dear, are you—“

“I’m just swell, Mrs. Kent! _Swell_!”

“Um, Lois-“

“No, I am A-okay, Clark! Why wouldn’t I be okay with spending Thanksgiving with my boyfriend’s ex-boyfriend, his evil twin from another dimension, and their brood of illegitimate children?” Lois’ voice had risen at every word.

“LOIS!”

“Why wouldn’t I be abso- _fucking_ -lutely thrilled with spending Thanksgiving with you people instead of my own family?” Lois was straight out shouting at this point.

All the dinner guests including the apathetic super-teens turned to stare at her.

“Well, just off hand” interrupted Real!Lex, “Because your mother’s an alcoholic like yourself and will spend the holiday blotto and slurring back-handed 'compliments' about your appearance. Your father, who is a cold-hearted prick that wishes you and your sister were a son instead of daughters, will remain sober and will spend the entire time harping on the fact he considers your career a silly, waste of time. Your sister Lucy is filled with venomous jealousy because you are your father’s nominal ‘favorite’ despite her being the ‘good’ daughter which means she’ll be stewing in not-very-silent rage and spitting verbal acid at you at every opportunity. Your cousin Louis will pester you constantly to ‘borrow’ money and/or for an ‘investment’ into one of his moronic get rich quick schemes. At some point your niece Suzie will throw a temper tantrum for attention. And _that_ is why you should be thrilled not to be spending Thanksgiving with your own family.”

This shocked Lois into momentary silence. “Good point”, she said in a normal tone. She dumped some more alcohol into a glass, downed it, poured another and walked over to the dining table, and plopped down in her assigned seat.

The other guests stared at her uncomfortably for a moment and then carried on in slightly strained silence as if nothing had happened. Clark, red-faced, hustled over to the table and sat down too. The doorbell rang again and they heard Alfred head down the hall to answer it. There was a brief murmuring in the hall and rustle of coats being gathered and put away.

A moment later Alfred stepped into the room and announced, “Sir, the rest of your guests have arrived.” He ushered them into the dining room with a slight bow, “Mr. and Mrs. _Alexei_ Luthor, Mr. and Mrs. Colby, and the young Misses and Misters Luthor, ladies and gentlemen.”

Clark stood up and bellowed, “LUTHOR!”

“Yes, what, Alien!?”, said a rather startled Alexei who was wearing his own cheesy wig and fake mustache.

Clark sat down quickly and meekly replied, “Er, lovely to see you and your wife again, sir.” His face resembled a tomato.

Alexei Luthor grunted and sat himself down.

“Yes, because every gathering needs more Lex Luthor”, grumbled Lois into her cocktail.

Alexander J. Luthor winked at her and said with his most charming smile, “I certainly like to think so!”

Alfred ushered Val, Nasthalthia, Lori, Lenny, and Alex Jr. toward the “kiddie” section of the dining table. The apathetic super-teens looked slightly less apathetic and put down their gadgets to chat with their friends and cousins.

The remaining adult guests sat themselves and the small talk and niceties began.

“Ardora, dear, you look radiant!”

 “Bruce, business going well? I heard you were restructuring Wayne Entertainment.”

“Lena, Val has gotten so big! And little Lori! They’re growing like weeds!”

“Senator Kent, wonderful speech you gave to the UN last week…”

“I hear Chloe and Ollie are thinking of having another kid.”

“I tried that heirloom variety of tomato you recommended, Jonathan. It was delicious.”

“Are you still planning on restoring Brainiac’s bottled city collection?”

“Barda is volunteering as a troop leader for the Girls Scouts”

”I’ve heard you re-purchased the family farm.”

“Yes, we’ll be neighbors again, Lex!”

Clark and Real!Lex’s gaze locked across the table.

Lex reached toward Clark’s hand and he whispered, “You’ll have to invite me to the house warming party…or am I still _persona non grata_ in the Kent household?”

Clark moved forward to touch his fingers to Lex’s and whispered back, “You know you’re _always_ welcome in my home, Lex.”

“The _HELL_!?”, shrieked Lois.

Lex and Clark startled apart and all the other guests were back to staring at Lois, Clark, and Alexander J. Luthor.

“Oh, I must have forgotten to tell you, Lois”, Clark squeaked. “Dad-From-Another-Dimension gave me the money to re-buy the family farm. The people I sold it to are convinced it’s cursed or something and couldn’t get rid of it quick enough. They actually tried to sign it back to me at a loss.”

“You insisted on paying them back every penny, of course”, grinned Lex.

“Of, course!” Clark replied primly, “I didn’t want to cheat them!”

“Always the boy scout, Clark.” Kal Luthor-Wayne shook his head.

“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING, CLARK!!!”

“Well, I was thinking of renting out the land to the Rosses and keeping the house as a weekend place for me and the kids.”

“How could you do something like this without consulting _me_?”

“Gosh, Lois, I didn’t think you’d care. It was a _gift_ from DFAD.”

“ _Who_?”

“Dad From Another Dimension”, chorused their audience.

“Weren’t you paying attention, Lane?”, sniped Lex.

Lois ignored her audience to focus her rage on Clark. “Care? Of course I _care_! You bought property without telling _me_! I’m your _fiancée_! Those are decisions we’re supposed to make _together_ , you ass!”

“But, Lois, I didn’t think-“

“I CAN SEE YOU DON’T THINK, YOU-“

“Lois, you don’t _ever_ consult with me about what you do with _your_ money because it’s none of my business!”

“Be reasonable, Lois, if General Lane decided to gift you with a vacation home, you wouldn’t say ‘no’ to it. Why are you angry I did this for Clark and the kids?”

Lois glared at them with mute fury until she caught sight of Lex sniggering at her out of the corner of her eye. “I bet you’re just loving this, Lex!”

“Well, just a bit.”

“You get to have Clark practically on your doorstep every weekend. You and Clark and the Super-snots will be just one big, happy family!”

“I’d like to think I’d always be cordial to Clark. He is the mother of my children. For _their_ sake, at the very least.”

“ _Mother_ of your children? Are you _insane_?” Lois shrieked. “He is not the mother of your children. He’s certainly not any kind of, of parent of those freak-jobs! You stole his DNA to make them. In multiple dimensions you stole his DNA! He’s not _your_ anything, you deranged pervert!”

The ‘freak-jobs’ in question were favoring Lois with arm-crossed looks of pouty outrage. You could use their lower lips as mantelpieces they jutted out so far.

“Lois, that is uncalled for! Don’t take this out on the kids!”

“Shut up, Clark!”

Martha Kent begged, “Please calm down, Lois. I’m sure you and Clark can settle this with insults and yelling.”

“You shouldn’t fight in front of children. It’s bad for their psyche”, added Jon Kent.

“They are not children!”

Alfred came in with Lois’ coat. “I heard shouting. Is there a problem, sirs?”

“Nothing that we can’t handle, Alfred.”

Lois sucked in her breath, snatched on her coat from Alfred’s hands, and grabbed Clark and dragged him out of the room and out of the building. Muffled arguing could be heard from the veranda.

“My adoptive brother from an alternate reality is seducing my not-evil-twin who’s engaged to Ollie Queen’s other wife. This is totally bizarre.”

“So says the alien who boinked his adoptive sister.”

“We weren’t raised in the same home and Lutessa didn’t tell me she was Lionel’s daughter until _after_ we started boinking.”

“But you _kept_ boinking her after you found out.”

“We had a shared a white-hot passionate hatred of Lionel Luthor and that was a beautiful thing.”

“You’re not _still_ boinking her, are you?”

“Lionel’s dead which means the magic’s gone. Plus, she’s crazy as a shit-house rat and occasionally tries to kill me….and I’m married to you now so I get to boink someone who’s way, way hotter than her.”

“Good to hear.”

Lois and Clark marched stiffly back into the room and sat back down. Everyone stared at them and awkwardly went back to their small talk pretending to not notice they did not seem to be looking at or talking to each other.

“So, Mr. Wayne-“

“Please, call me Bruce, Martha. You are my sons’ grandmother. There’s no need for such formality!”

“Oh, yes. Okay. Bruce, dear, did you ever find out who that poor young man was that looked so much like Clark and Kal? The one they found dead in the Superman costume?”

“Some little sod named Jon Lane Kent.”

“Who’s Jon Lane Kent. Is he another Superman?”

“Ha! Hardly! He’s totally evil!”

“He’s Clark and Lois’s son from another dimension’s alternate future reality.”

“What! Why is this the first time I’ve heard of it?”

“Er, oh, yes, I forgot to tell you, Lois, _butthatwasoursonfromanotherdimensionwhoturnedsupervillain_.”

“Our son from where did what now?”

“Your son from an alternate reality turned evil and murdered a bunch of people, and then was killed in yet another dimension by their version of the Teen Titans, and dumped through a hole in space-time where he landed on our Earth.”

“Thanks, Alexei.”

“Not a problem.”

“We had a son in another dimension and you didn’t tell me, Clark?”

“Well, he was dead and he was totally evil and a good time to tell you just never came up. Most of the others didn’t turn out so badly.”

“Wait! What other ones?”

“Our other alternate reality offspring.”

“Are you saying we have children in another dimension?”

“Uh, sure, a bunch but I lost count after the first dozen.”

“Why didn’t you _tell_ me?”

“Um, because you didn’t ask?”

“I shouldn’t have to ask you that!”

“I’m sorry, Lois! I just figured you weren’t that interested. You’ve never been interested in Conner or Match or Cir or the twins.”

“Those are not _my_ children. Those are not even _your_ children, Clark, no matter what insane ideas Lex has planted in your head, those are not _your_ kids. Of course, I’m interested in _my_ children!”

“They’re not really your offspring, technically. They’re the offspring of another Lois Lane and Clark Kent”, opined Alexei Luthor.

“Or Lana Lang or Wonder Woman. I married them quite a few times too. _Oh, crap_.”

“LANA!!!”

“ _Oh, crap_!”

“LANA OR WONDER WOMAN!!!”

“Calm down, please! I didn’t really marry them, Lois. Some other guy, in another dimension, got married and had some kids and he happened to have the same name as me. While another woman named ‘Lois Lane’ married some other person and had kids with them.  Those people aren’t us. Their kids aren’t ours either.”

“Wait, who _did_ I marry? Other than you or Oliver Queen?”

“Lex.”

“What.”

“You either marry me or Lex. You’re very consistent. Occasionally you’d get engaged to some hideous creature masquerading as a handsome human but Alternate Me always rescued you before you said ‘I do’”

“What.”

“He said-“

“Shut your pie hole, Luthor!”

“I was only trying to help.”

Alfred cleared his throat noisily. “Ladies and Gentlemen of the Justice League and _others_ , some sort of space craft is headed toward the Wayne estate. From its current trajectory I would say it’s about to crash into the rose garden pagoda.”

There were a lot of surprised exclamations and the heroes and heroines bolted out in the direction of the rose garden. The non-heroically inclined guests dove beneath the dining table and assumed the ‘duck and cover’ position. There was a terrible sound of metal colliding with stone, wood, and plaster which preceded all the windows on the north side of Wayne manor blowing in. One of the chandeliers crashed to the floor scattering Swarovski crystals like shrapnel. Dust and plaster clouded the air and Alfred ushered the choking guests out and into the wine cellar and passed out first-aid kits. He didn’t seem to feel the threat merited taking them to Wayne Manor’s _other_ panic room. They sat in the dark for several long, anxious minutes tending their cuts and scratches while Alfred sat at the top of the stairs monitoring the security feeds from a smart phone.

Alfred smiled suddenly. “All clear, ladies and gentlemen.” He stood up and began unlocking the door.

They shuffled up the stairs and out of the wine cellar. Lois snagged a bottle of 1945 Chateau Mouton-Rothschild along the way.

“If you’ll follow me to the drawing room, I shall pour out a restorative for you and the others.” Alfred snagged the wine bottle back from Lois. “Madam can get sozzled on a cheaper vintage, if you please.”

“Humph!”

The Bruce and Kal Luthor-Wayne escorted the ship’s pilot and crew into the room. All were suited and helmeted so it was impossible to tell who or what they were except humanoid. They were followed by the newest Green Lantern, Simon Baz, and Zatanna. The other super-beings were outside putting the pagoda fire out.

Simon was scanning the space persons with some piece of Oan technology while Zatanna muttered spells. “They’re clean of any harmful germs and they don’t seem to be armed.”

“We’ve more guests for dinner, Alfred”, Bruce called out cheerily.

“I will make the necessary arrangements, sir.” He left the room to finish the dinner preparations.

Bruce turned to the assorted Super-Teens, “Could you help him?” They all cheerfully zipped out of the room after Alfred.

“So, who do we have the displeasure of meeting, darling?”, drawled Kal.

The space persons took this as an invitation to remove their helmets and suits. Alfred gathered them up and whisked them away into a coat closet. Wayne Manor’s latest uninvited guests were a unique assortment of people wearing yellow and black spandex with ‘X’ badges.

The rest of the Justice Leaguers trooped in. “All done. Nothing too serious.” Clark announced.

“Sorry, to drop in unexpectedly, folks”, began the one with the heavy eyewear.

“Let me guess. You’re some sort of team of super-powered people who have traveled from another dimension to save your world from either, please insert here now, aliens, robots, alien robots, plague, alien plague, evil time travelers, evil time traveling aliens, evil time traveling alien robots, evil wizards, evil time traveling wizards, harmonic convergence of various realities, _un_ harmonic convergence of various realities, or something similar.”

“So….you’ve done this before, I gather?”, asked a rather elegant African-American lady with punky hair.  
“Couple of times, yes.”

“At this point we’d call the end of the world a slow Tuesday”, muttered Ardora.

“Hey, bub. How did it turn out?”, asked the pointy one who was lighting up one of Bruce’s Montecristos he’d helped himself to.

Bruce drawled, “The world hasn’t ended yet and I married the evil alien overlord.”

“Not bad”, Pointy conceded.

Punky wanted to be absolutely sure on the evil overlord front, “You talked him out of conquering the planet?”

“I talked him into becoming an evil business man instead.”

Kal raised his glass of brandy in a mocking salute and cordially said, “You may interpret _that_ as you please.”

The blue hairy one asked, “You’re an evil alien business man?”

“Strangely enough he’s a lot more ethical than the human ones.”

Clark sighed, “Is the impending threat to global peace imminent or do we have time for dinner first?”

The brown-haired girl told him, “We’ve got all the time in _this_ world.”

“Sir, the children and I have cleared and tidied the dining room and re-set the table. Dinner is now served.”

Alfred shepherded the Justice Leaguers, evil scientists, assorted youth, and the yellow and black “X” visitors from the drawing room and down the hall.

“How could they possibly be done so quickly?”, Clark heard a brown-haired girl whisper to the red-haired girl without the white stripe in it.

“They have powers. Great powers”, whispered back her friend.  
  
“Mutants?”, asked Hairy.

“I think a few are. The rest are…something else.”

“Hostile?”, asked Frenchy.

“No. They are a part of some kind of world-saving, crime-fighting team themselves.”

The unexpected guests relaxed.

They entered a room that had only moments before had been scattered with broken glass, splintered wood, and plaster dust.  The glass was back in the windows. It looked oddly bubbled and warped but it was in the frames. The chandelier, minus some jet beads, was hanging in its place, the table linen was whole and un-tattered, and the dishes and cutlery was laid out perfectly. A few chairs had been replaced with mismatches but all the furniture was in its proper place and clean. Food was laid out on the sideboard.

The yellow-and-black “X” people looked rather stunned.

“How?” those with super-hearing heard them whisper amongst themselves.

Alfred and Bruce Junior and Kal Junior served out the entrée quite rapidly and took their own seats.

Bruce smiled at his family and guests, “I am not a very religious person. Generally we don’t say grace but I think a moment of silence for those who are not with us and the trials and tribulations we’ve faced and overcome in the past year would not offend anyone.”

They all paused politely, heads bowed, for a moment.

“Well, let’s eat, folks.”

They dug in and the polite small talk began again. However, the table placement had been disarranged and Clark was now seated next to Lex and Lois was shunted down toward the “X” persons. Match, Conner, and Cir smirked and giggled evilly amongst themselves.

“I saw your report on the California drought. The research you put into it was truly impressive.”

“Have you had any luck tracking down the remaining members of the Justice Society?”

“I’m going to be addressing the UN about alien rights during the General Assembly.”

“Diana and the other Amazons have really taken to academic life at Holliday College. They joined a sorority called Beeta Lambda.”

“I head that Guy Gardner has chosen a new protégé and its little Milagro Reyes.”

“Nightwing is going to be finishing up her master’s degree soon. It seems like just yesterday she walked as valedictorian at her high school graduation.”

“Do you know what happened to my Warrior Angel collection? I couldn’t find any record of Tess selling it off.”

Clark leaned closer to Lex and whispered back huskily, “I saved it. I saved it for Alex Jr., I mean, Conner….and of course Match and Cir-El now too. I saved it along with your mother’s piano, your watch, and the truck. I wanted him to have some things of yours. Some things you loved. To remember you by.”

Lex leaned closer and clasped Clark’s hands in his and gazed deeply into his eyes.  “But we were enemies by then.”

“I wanted him to know we weren’t always enemies.”

“God, I need more booze if I have to listen this crap.”

Pointy took out a flask from his jacket and slammed it down in front of Lois. She brightened up. “Thanks!” She chugged it down in one go. Pointy and Frenchy looked impressed. The others looked slightly appalled.

“So, what’s with those two anyway?”, asked Pointy who was still puffing on his cigar.

Lex answered never tearing his gaze away from Clark, “We’re nemeses.”

“Fuckin’ huge stalker shrine”, Lois slurred. “Back alley Kryptonite espirments. Labs! God, the _labs_!”

“Lois, I thought we established most of the evil plots done in my name were carried out by my father Lionel or various clones or the Luthors from that mirror reality.”

“Ha! Tha’ is jusht bullshiiiit!”

“Gosh, Lois, you know Lex was framed for-“

“I was found innocent of-“

“HA!!! Lex Luthor, innnshent? My ash he’s, he’s inn…inn…that thing!”

“I proved to the satisfaction of the Justice League that I’m an honest, law-abiding citizen, Lois.”

“Clone babies! _Clone_ babies! You shtole his DNA and made alien love-children with Clark, pervert!”

“That was my employees. They were horrified that Lutessa was running the company into the ground and decided the only thing to save their jobs was Lex Luthor or a reasonable facsimile of me. A sin I forgive them for since darling Conner would not exist if they had not.”

“Liar! Liar, liar, pansh on fire!”, Lois sputtered.

“Lois!”

“Ha! You, Lex, are a big, fat liar! You cloned Julian! You cloned your baby brother, like, losht and losht of times!”

“The court exonerated me for that. I was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder from all those years of abuse at Lionel’s hands and not responsible for my actions. ”

“Honestly, Lois, can you blame Lex for wanting his beloved brother back?” Kal had to add his two cents.

Lois shrieked loud enough to distract Clark and Kal at a crucial moment when they were both reaching for a dinner roll.

There was a blinding flash of light and sprawled, naked across the dinner table was one Superman where there had been two. Their clothing was in scattered shreds across the other guests and the floor and table.

“Fuck it, Wayne. I got dibs. I ain’t sharin’”

“Lois, if you liked it, you should have put a ring on it. You had nine chances already.”

Martha Kent rose from her seat. “Alfred, would you please direct me to the black Kryptonite.”

“Yes, madam. This way, madam.”

Alfred escorted Martha out of the room. The Justice Leaguers and Titans looked mildly embarrassed. The yellow-and-black spandex “X” visitors looked fascinated. As if this were the best and most original dinner theatre they’d ever witnessed.

“Uh, is he, I mean, are they all right?”, asked Stripey.

“I’m sure we’ll have them back to normal in a moment.”

Hairy peered at naked Clark/Kal curiously and poked him gently, “You mentioned earlier an unharmonic convergence of realities? Was that what we witnessed?”

“Yes.” Bruce gestured toward Clark/Kal. “The side effect is that if you and your counterpart from our mirror reality touch, you merge into one being now.”

Alfred returned wearing a lead apron and bearing a tray with a small lead box on it. Senator Kent followed him in wearing lead-lined gloves. They halted next to Clark/Kal and Alfred opened the lead box. Senator Kent removed the Kryptonite and touched Clark/Kal on the forehead. There was a flash of light and the ‘twins’ were lying on the floor on opposite sides of the table.

“Wazzit?”, a still very naked Clark or Kal said and sat up. On the other side his ‘brother’ gurgled, “Ulp!” and propped himself up on his elbows.

“Clark, is that you?”

Clark blinked and said, “Hi, ma, what the ever loving fuck just happened? Last thing I remember is Lois bitching out Lex.”

“Er. I don’t think we’ve gotten it quite right.”

“Golly! Clark and I seem to have accidentally touched! And I’m nude! In public! How embarrassing!”

“Nope. Definitely not right.”

Zatanna stood up and came over. “I think I can help. You’ll have to put them back together again first.”

“Bruce, could you be a dear and drag Kal next to Clark.”

Bruce and the Green Lantern grabbed Kal by the ankles and hauled him around to Clark. When the men were arranged to Zatanna’s satisfaction, Martha Kent put the black Kryptonite into Kal’s hand and then covered it with Clark’s. Another flash of dark light and two were one once more. Zatanna borrowed the lead-lined gloves and muttered a spell over the black Kryptonite. She touched it to Clark/Kal’s head a second time. Boom! Clark and Kal were separate yet again. Their eyes were rolled up into their heads and they were making gurgling noises.

“Well, Senator Kent, I think that’s done it.”

“Madam, I think now would be a good time to re-dress them.”

Bruce turned to the Super-Sons. “Boys, take your father and Uncle Clark upstairs, please. Alfred will help you find them some suitable evening wear.” Bruce Junior and Kal-Formerly-Clark Junior seized their parent and uncle and zipped upstairs at super-speed. Alfred gathered up the rags that had been their clothing and marched out of the room after them.

Bruce smiled at this guests, “Well, they’ll be down in a moment. No reason to let our meal grow cold waiting.”

The other guests once more settled into their seats and began the polite dinner chit-chat once more.

“The Beefstake is a good tomato, but I prefer the Brandywine.”

“Barda and her Daisies dropped by Wayne Corporation with a cookie order form last week. I loaded up on the tagalongs and thin mints.”

“Dax-Ur took Brainiac's bottle collection to the Kandorians. He said he doesn't think he can re-enlarge the cities but he can use Jor-El's blue Kryptonite phantom-zone transporter to retrieve the people from them.”

“The other homeowners added another bathroom and completely painted and remodeled. Clark will actually come out ahead on the deal.”

“Lori has built her own battle suit. I made her a deal that if she quit smoking, I’d let her join Garrick's team.”

Lois peered woozily at her cell phone, “Crap, my own family isn’t _that_ bad. I’m going to call my dad and have him pick me up. I’ve had enough of this shit show.”

There was a loud bang as the front door down the hall was unceremoniously slammed open. Bruce and the other Justice Leaguers rose to their feet. Zatanna muttered a spell and the yellow and black spandex was transformed into yellow and black evening wear and blue fur was turned into a blue suit. The “X” badged persons boggled at their makeover. Alexei and Alexander and swiftly straightened their wigs and mustaches. Jon Kent and the super-teens slipped coke-bottle glasses out of their pockets and put them on. The door to the dining room crashed open and there stood Lex-From-Clone-Parts, Otis Berg, and other members of the VRA.

“Where are they?”, demanded Clone-Parts-Lex.

Otis peered out from behind him and smiled nervously at the Justice League.

 “Where are who?”

“The aliens who crash landed in your garden less than an hour ago, Wayne!”

“Aliens? What are you talking about?

“We have reports of an alien air craft spotted over Gotham. It was shot down by General Lane and crashed _here_!”

“Fug, dads workin’ onna holiday? Mom musht be shitting herself.” Lois’ cell phone continued to ring.

“You think it landed here?”  
“I know it did!”

“Well, you won’t find any space ships on the Wayne Estate.”

When Otis spotted Lillian Luthor and he waggled his fingers in a tentative wave. She smiled back at him and mouthed, “Hi, honey.”  Clone!Lex and the VRA officers were too busy glaring at Bruce Wayne to notice.

“I don’t believe it, Wayne. I’m going to turn this place upside down till I find it and when I do…”

Senator Kent cleared her throat. “Only if you have a warrant, Mr. Luthor”

“Senator Kent! What are you doing here?”

“I’m a dinner guest.”

Bruce favored Clone-Parts-Lex a shit-eating grin. “The Wayne family and the Clark family go way back, Luthor.”

“Wayne, I want that space craft—“

“Then I suggest you get a warrant, Mr. Luthor. As it is you’re trespassing.”

“I’ll get that warrant, Kent, see if I don’t. And when I do-“

“LUTHOR!!!”, bellowed Clark. “ _oh, crap_!”

“Gaaaah!” Clone!Lex jumped like a cat on hot tin. “Damn it, Kent. You nearly gave me a heart attack! For a moment you sounded just like that damn alien”

“Meep!” Clark’s face was nearly incandescent. He sidled into the room and slouched further in embarrassment. “Oh, er, sorry to startle you! Are you a dinner guest too?”

“No, Kent. I’m not here for dinner. I’m after a down space craft. Wayne’s hiding it from me!”

“Really, where?” Clark Kent peered around myopically through an extra thick, extra huges glasses as if the vessel were somewhere concealed amongst serving dishes on the table or sideboard.

“God, not _here_ , you ninny! Somewhere _outside_!”

“But how could Bruce hide something like that in the rose garden? Wouldn’t it stick out?”

“It might not be in the roses, but here on the estate _somewhere_ and I’m going to find it!”

“Only if you get a warrant, Mr. Luthor”

“I’ll get one and I’ll be back!”

“LUTHOR!!! _dammnithesgotmedoingitnowtoo_ ”

Clone!Lex spun around and faced Kal Luthor-Wayne. “What, what did you say?”

“Er, would you care for a piece of peach cobbler before you go?”

“No, thank you!” Clone!Lex swept from the room with his entourage.

General Lane’s cell phone picked up. “Lois, is that you? Do you know how disappointed your mother is you’re missing Thanksgiving with the family? Chloe doesn’t do this kind of thing to her father! Why can’t you be more like your cousin? She married a nice guy with a future. Of, course, she graduated from college so she didn’t get stuck with some schmuck from the sticks-“ There was a ‘beep’ and Lois flung the phone as hard as she could at the wall. She held up her wine glass to Alfred, “Refill”. He obliged.

As Otis passed, Kal leaned closer to whisper, “Nice to see you again, Julian!”

“Eh, I think you have me confused with someone else, sir! My name is Otis. Otis Berg.”

“Sure it is, Julian.”

Otis-not-Julian scuttled out after Clone!Lex and the VRA. The front door slammed shut.

“You know, I think he was less of a jerk _before_ Jor-El cured him of sociopathy.”


	6. At This Point They Should Really Be Re-Named Doomed Patrol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever wondered what the X-Men must look like to other super heroes? 
> 
> Also, Justice League #27, by GEOFF JOHNS, part of the Forever Evil crossover event is now out. Marvel's Ultimates 1610 is undergoing renovation per Cataclysm: Ultimate Spider-Man Vol 1 #1.

“So, what was up those ‘X’ people anyway?” Star Girl carefully dragged a nail polish brush along one of Chloe’s nails.

“They’re on a save-the-world field trip from some kind of super hero school.”

“What are they saving their world from?”

Zatanna held up her hand to examine her nails and then resumed filing. “Their planet is being eaten by giant purple alien demigod which fell into their reality through a wormhole created when they traveled back in time too much in their quest to keep an evil android from destroying all life on the planet.”

“Bummer. I hate when that happens.” Chloe said never tearing her eyes away from the Watchtower monitors.

“Seriously.” Zatanna agreed.

Star Girl screwed the lid back onto the polish. “So they’re asking for refuge?”

“Yes, for themselves and any other survivors.”

“How many?” Chloe blew on her nails.

Zatanna started buffing her manicure. “Anywhere from a few million to a few billion. It depends on how much planet is left when they evacuate.”

“How much planet was gone when they escaped?”

“New Jersey. The alien demigod was washing it down with the Hudson river when they took off.”

“Shouldn’t it all be gone by now?” Star Girl examined Chloe’s polish for done-ness.

“Supposedly they’re going to travel back into their own reality at almost the exact same point in time as they left it. It’s space time dimensional thingee.”

“Cool.”

Star Girl opened the bottle of top coat.

“Well, that’s if the mad scientist they got the transporter device from didn’t send them on a one way trip.”

“Wouldn’t that mean the mad scientist was left behind to be eaten?”

“Yes, but he’s crazy and created a new species replace the human race and their mutated super people. They’re hoping he’s still sane enough to realize that if the planet gets eaten he and his lab rats get eaten right along with it.”

“What are the odds he’s really that sane?”

“Not real good but they have other loony genius-types looking over his shoulder. And both Lexes are working on the problem on our end.” Zatanna put away her manicure set and pulled on her gloves.

“Where the heck are we going to put billions of extra people, if they actually pull this off?”

“Clark and Kal dialed up Dax-Ur on New Krypton and asked him to drop by in Brainac’s ship. They’re going to see if there’s any way to miniaturize and collect the alien demigod’s table scraps.”

“Are they going to dump them on the Kandorians?”

“They’re going to try and dump Other Earth into a heliosynchronous orbit with ours.”

“How will that affect us?”

“Probably won’t. Luthor says they’ll be in the same orbit as us but on the opposite side of the sun.”

Chloe held up her hand to examine Star Girl’s work. “Are they going to join the Justice League?”

“No, they work strictly with mutated super-heroes.”

“Weird. How do they handle demons, magic users, aliens, cyborgs, and other non-mutant villains?”

“Poorly. Their success rate is really low and their mortality rate is really high. Also, the Luthors looked over their curriculum and staff credentials and it’s a miracle their students can actually read and write since they’re teachers are so incompetent. It looks like most their budget goes to repairing their mansion and private jet.”

“So, what happens if they can’t return to their own world?” Star Girl placed her foot in Chloe’s lap. Chloe unscrewed the lid of a bottle of blue polish.

“I figured we can dump them on Creepy Caulder. He’s always looking for new cannon fodder. Something tells me they'll get along like a house afire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're not familiar with Dr. Niles Caulder and Doom Patrol they're believed to be a rip-off of The Fantastic Four which in turn were ripped off by Professor X and the X-men.
> 
> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doom_Patrol
> 
> Let's just say, this kind of happens a lot to Doomies.
> 
> http://scans-daily.dreamwidth.org/4604318.html


	7. Happy Belated Singles Awareness Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I did not like the Ollie Queen on 'Smallville'. I do not like the Ollie Queen on 'Arrow'. The comic book version of Ollie Queen is tolerable only very tiny doses. Sorry, this is in really, very poor taste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible trigger warning.

**I'm Not Sure What I Was Thinking When I Came Up With This**

 

Lois slouched into the Isis Foundation lobby and flashed her ID at the security guard manning the front desk. At this hour only Chloe would be in the office. She slouched over to the executive elevator and pushed the call button.

She pushed it again.

Still nothing.

She looked up at the CCTV camera above the elevator and said, “Chloe, it’s me! Let me come up!”

Chloe didn’t answer but Lois became aware of a _squeech squeech_ sound coming down the hallway toward her. She turned around and spotted her cousin dragging a duck-taped person in an office chair down the hall toward her.

“Chloe!”

“Shhh!” Her cousin spun her captive around and pushed her up to the elevator. “I need to get her down to the garage.”

Lois stared at Chloe’s victim and the person, _Black Canary_? No, not actually _the_ Black Canary. Just someone who looked a great deal like Black Canary peered blearily back. Her head lolled back. One pupil had shrunk to a pinpoint and the other was completely dilated. Chloe must have used the _good_ tranqs on her.

“So, why do you have the Black Canary wannabe taped to a chair?”

“She’s Ollie’s Valentine’s Day present.” Chloe beeped in the security code for the elevator and the doors slid open. She grabbed the back of the office chair and hauled her ‘guest’ inside.

Lois followed. “You’re giving your husband another woman for a Valentine’s Day gift?”

“Yep!” The doors slid shut and Chloe selected a floor. The elevator began to sink downwards.

“Chloe, let’s untie the nice lady and take her to a hospital. You don’t want to spend Little Sully’s childhood in prison.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ve abducted a sex slave for your husband.”

“Oh, I didn’t kidnap her, you idiot. I rescued her.”

“If you rescued her, why is she taped to a chair and drugged off her ass?”

“Because I rescued her from New Arkham Asylum, of course!”

“ARE YOU FRICKIN’ CRAZY!!! THIS WOMAN IS FROM ARKHAM!? WHY WOULD YOU LET ONE OF THOSE NUTTERS-“

“Shhhhh!!!” Chloe clapped her hand over Lois’ mouth. “Would you keep it down?”

Lois yanked her hand from her mouth and said in a lower tone, “What were you _thinking_?”

“What was I thinking? I was _thinking_ I was going to give my future-ex-husband his mistress’ criminally insane doppelgänger from another reality for a Valentine’s Day gift.”

“Wait? What? What do you mean _ex_ -husband?”

The elevator binged and the doors slid open to reveal the private garage for the CEO of the ISIS Foundation. Chloe pushed the Not Black Canary out of the elevator and Lois followed.

“Yeah, you know how a few months ago Ollie brought up how nice it would be for Little Sully to have a brother or sister? Well, it turns out he wasn’t talking about having another kid with me. It turns out he’s got half a dozen illegitimate kids running around.”

“That ass!” Lois was indignant on Chloe’s behalf. “Still, that doesn’t explain why you’re kidnapping a sex slave from another dimension.”

“Sex slave? Jesus, Lois, do you really think I’d really do that? That’s disgusting!”

Lois gestured to Not Dinah Lance. “Ahem. Chair… duck tape…tranquilizers? You said you were going to give her to Ollie. What do you think it looks like, Chloe.”

“ _Sheesh_! I told you I _rescued_ her from another Arkham Asylum, right?” Chloe wheeled her captive toward her executive limo. “Well, they’re the ones who drugged her up to the eyeballs. I had to tape her to the chair and wheel her out because she’s too loopy to walk.”

“Why did the fine staff at Arkham feel the need to get her looped off her ass?”

“Oh, she gets a bit stabby when she sees or hears or thinks about Ollie.”

“What? Why does she hate Oliver Queen?”

Chloe pulled out a pair of scissors and snipped Stabby Lance free from her chair. “Well, not _our_ Ollie, obviously.”

“Okay, why does she hate _her_ Ollie, then?” Lois was standing with her hands on her hips.

“Laurie…” Chloe spun Laurel around and asked, “Hey, do you mind if I call you Laurie?”

Laurie’s eyes were crossed and she mumbled, “Don’t call me…”

“Great! Thanks!” Chloe turned back to Lois. “So anyway, Laurie here really, really, really hates Ollie!”

“Again,” Lois said, “Why does she hate him?”

“Oooo, he’s an even bigger jerk than ours! See, in their dimension there’s no Dinah Lance. Instead there’s Laurel and her sister Sara. Their Ollie asked Laurel to get engaged to him or move into him or something and the same night hopped into bed with little sister Sara.”

“So, she hates him for porking her sister?”

“That was the start.”

“The start?”

“Yeah, that was the same time Ollie got lost at sea and wound up stranded on that deserted island. Sara was presumed drowned. After several years he was presumed dead and Laurel went on with her life and was on the emotional mend from losing her fiancé and her sister.”

“Let me guess, that’s when Ollie came back?”

“You betcha! He came back as the Green Arrow and started killing the poors and letting their criminal, white collar bosses off Scott free because they were old pals at the local country club.”

“He _what_?”

“He kills the body guards and assorted minions of wealthy, blue-blood criminals but covers up for the master minds because they’re from the upper crust and old friends of the Queen family. _Really_. He does that.”

“Jackass.”

“I know! He cocked up every criminal investigation her dad, a cop, was working on and torpedoed his career.”

“So that’s what drove her crazy pants?”

“No, that’s what made her an alcoholic. That didn’t push her over the edge.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. What happened?”

“It turns out that his mother is some kind of super-villainess who bribed her way out of a mass murder conviction. One of those five hundred people she killed was Laurie’s current boyfriend. Laurie here is the lawyer that got tapped to prosecute Mama Evil. Naturally when Mama Evil got off it ruined Laurie’s career. Oh, and her little sister miraculously came back to life and Ollie started boning her again…while swearing eternal love and loyalty to Laurel here. Finding out he was the one sneaking around and screwing up her life made her want to make him very, very dead.”

“Well, I can see why she hates Oliver Queen.”

“A feeling I know well.”

“So why _do_ you hate him, apart from the hoard of illegitimate kids?”

“Oh, I don’t hate him for those. All of them were born before Ollie and I got together.”

“Wait! Then why are you pissed off at him!?”

“Because he left me for the _real_ Black Canary!”

“What!”

“Yes, when the Justice League was wandering around the multiverse, Ollie discovered that his _ohgagmeplease_ ‘soul mate’ was the Black Canary!”

“Wut?”

“No, really, I apparently was a one off! According to him, Ollie Queen’s _soul mate_ is Dinah!”

“What the ever loving _fuck_?”

“That was pretty much my reaction, yes.”

“So, why this?” Lois gestured at Not Black Canary.

“Well, who am I to stand in the way of true love?”

“She’ll kill him!”

“Naaah. She’s got noodle arms. She hasn’t got the upper body strength to inflict any real damage. Just enough to convince Ollie that maybe he needs to rethink some of his relationship choices.”

“Chloe! What happened to the real Black Canary?”

“Right about now she’s probably trying to convince the guards at Arkham she’s perfectly sane, never tried to carve the Queen family up into fish bait, never downed that fifth of bourbon and got behind the wheel of her car and ran over her baby sister (twice BTW) and does not belong in an insane asylum.” Chloe grabbed Laurel under her arms. “Grab her legs, will you? I’m taking her to Dr. Hamilton for some detoxing.”

Lois rolled eyes and grabbed Laurel’s ankles. “So you’re going to leave her in a lunatic asylum on another world?”

“I’ll bring her back at the end of Laurel’s ‘vacation’…maybe.” They hauled Laurel into the limo. “I kind of like Miss Crazy Pants.”

“Chloe!”

“Sheesh! I’m kidding.”


	8. The Amaranthine Age part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a two-parter. One cannot mock mating rituals of the 1% in only one chapter.

** We're No Longer Living In The Gilded Age **

 

Florence Evelyn Clifford  _née_ Thaw _née_ Nesbit of the Tarentum, Pennsylvania Nesbits, Vice-Chairperson of the Debutante Committee of the Society for American Prairie States’ annual cotillion surveyed her afternoon appointment in the reception area. They were not her kind, dear.

Two utterly grim-looking women in short, dark uniforms stood “at ease” near the entry. A tall, athletic-looking bald man wearing a terrible toupee and dark sunglasses surveyed the ballroom from the mezzanine balcony. He twirled the end of his mustache which popped off in his hand. Absentmindedly he continued twirling it for a bit until one of his young companions hissed, “Dad!”

“Hmm?” He looked at his hand and slapped his mustache back onto his upper lip. “Is it straight?”

“Mostly”

“Does it look realistic?”

“No, not at all. It never has”, replied a young man with oddly colored eyes who was vaguely flipping through a copy of the Social Register.

A girl with short blonde hair hissed, “Quiet! The Vice-Lady is here!”

She and the other young ladies smoothed their clothing out with their palms and touched up their hair with their fingertips and pasted on charming smiles. The young men merely rolled their eyes and continued to slouch all over the office settee and chairs willfully ignoring anything but their magazines or cell phones.

Definitely not her kind, Florence mentally sighed. Well, she’d let them grovel awhile before shooing them out the door. One had to at the very least pretend that the offspring of the crass nouveau riche had a fair chance at getting an invitation to be presented by American Prairie States’ cotillion. If one were blunt and told them “old money only”, they had a tendency to kick up a fuss. For some reason they always felt as if they were being slighted by their betters. Florence hated fuss…and the nouveau riche. So very, very gauche.

She favored them with a bland smile and said, “And how may I assist you?”

The bald athletic man bounded over and thrust out his hand and vigorously shook hers before she had a chance to even offer it. “Luther Lexington, at your service. My girls want to go to your debutante ball. How much are the tickets? Wayne said when his mother did it the fees were around sixteen grand.”

“Er, yes, Wayne who?” Florence was momentarily startled. “And did he mention that it’s strictly by invitation only?”

“Bruce Wayne. We’re in-laws or maybe that’s out-laws. In any case, we’re related by marriage. His mother Martha did the deb thing back when she was still a Kane. ” Luther’s smile put Mrs Nesbit-Thaw in the mind of a shark.

Okay, perhaps they weren’t _entirely_ persona non grata, but they certainly weren’t in American Prairie States’ league. Florence pasted a slightly more patronizing smile on her face and said, “Mister Lexington, I’m sure that Mr. Wayne told you that only the finest young women from the finest families come out at APS’s debutante ball…which is by invitation _only_.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’ve got the finest young women with me then isn’t it?”

“Yes, they seem like lovely young ladies.” The words ‘lovely young ladies’ was pronounced in tone of voice that conveyed Florence really thought they were ‘scruffy little trollops’. “But every place on this season’s coming out ball has been filled. Perhaps next year they will receive an invitation.” Or perhaps _never_ , Florence mentally added.

Instead of looking disappointed, Luther Lexington merely smiled at Florence more brightly. “Flossie? Can I call you Flossie?” He didn’t bother to wait for Florence to say, ‘absolutely not’ before continuing. “Flossie, I’m sure that a few names can be added to the end of the list without much trouble. It’s an hour ceremony followed by three hours of partying. Adding some names to the end of the list would extend the presentation ceremony by ten minutes tops and there’d still be plenty of time to dance and booze it up.”

“Sir, the American Prairie States cotillion is not just some high school homecoming prom!” Florence was peeved.

One of the youths muttered, “Could have fooled me.”

Florence shot him ‘A Look’. Definitely not her kind, dear. “Our ceremonies are scripted and rehearsed to the minutest detail. Like one of Shakespeare’s plays!” There came another youthful snort of derision when Florence uttered the words ‘Shakespeare’s plays’. Florence favored them with another ‘Look’. “As I was saying, we cannot add other people at this point. It is completely impossible.”

“Really? Bette Kane is doing your deb dance and she just got her invite in the mail this week. She says that dress rehearsals are weeks away.”

“Dress rehearsals are weeks away but the script for the opening tableau has already been written…and it was written for a specific number of young ladies and gentlemen. It’s far, far too late to change it now.”

“Really? Too late for re-writes? I’m pretty sure Shakespeare did re-writes to his plays right up until the curtains went up. Most playwrights do. I can have one come over and help your committee out if they’re not up to the task. Can’t be that hard to add a couple of lines of dialogue to a history skit.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Lexington, we can not and will not be altering the scheduled ceremony for your daughters.” It looked like Florence was going to have to be blunt. “We can not and will not be extending an invitation to your daughters, Mister Lexington. They are not eligible.”

“I was under the impression that to be eligible to attend cotillion one only needed to be a pretty, unmarried woman between the ages of sixteen and twenty-two, in good standing in the community, own a white ball gown, and have the wad of cash to pay for it.” Mr. Lexington gave an all-encompassing wave toward his girls. “Well, I’ve got wads of cash and they are all pretty, young single women in good standing in the community. Well, maybe not Lori after the mechanical squid incident at SeaWorld but the rest are golden.”

Florence was very, very peeved now. “Mr. Lexington, you have been deceived", she grated out. "That is not all that it takes for a debutante to make her bow at American Prairie States’ cotillion. We are not just a ‘deb dance’. We are the most prestigious and the most exclusive debutante ball in the _world_ , not just in Metropolis or Gotham. The debutantes who come out with us include the daughters of aristocrats, royalty, heiresses and the scions of the best families from the Social Register. Your daughters are none of those. You and your daughters are not welcome to attend the season, Mister Lexington. We will not be sending them an invitation to attend.”

Instead of looking angry, or disappointed, or dismayed in anyway, Mister Lexington looked utterly thrilled. Like, like he was actually pleased with Florence’s dismissal!

“Oh, I am so very sorry to hear that.” His smile became even more toothy and predatory. He resembled a great white in a cheap suit. He turned to the assorted youth and nodded. They stood up and made ready to go. “Well, if you change your mind, here’s my card.” Luther Lexington shoved a business card into Florence’s hand.

Instead of looking crestfallen and disappointed, the young ladies were smirking at Florence in a way that was somewhat disturbing. Previously when Florence disappointed ‘ineligible’ young ladies there was tears and weeping. These young ladies didn’t seem the least bit anguished or disappointed.

The bodyguards ushered the youths and Mr. Lexington out of the room and gave slight, mocking curtseys to Florence and sauntered out after.

Florence absolutely hated when the lower classes made a fuss. She felt rather relieved Mr. Lexington had taken rejection so well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The murder of New York architect Stanford White by Harry Kendall Thaw in 1906 was the scandal of the Gilded Age. Evelyn Nesbit was considered the world's first super model and the mistress of White and the wife of Thaw. The trial was like a soap opera. Flossie Clifford would not have approved of such shenanigans.


	9. imperium reginam - Namor Would Get This Joke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I lied. The mating rituals of the 1% will be mocked in 3 chapters, not two.

**Uneasy Lies The Head That Wears The Crown**

Cornelia Bradley-Martin was watching the latest dreary report about the economy and the loss of jobs overseas when a funny looking man in a bad toupee and Groucho glasses dropped off a parcel for her. It was a framed poster print of a French painting. He insisted she bought it. Cornie thought there must be some kind of weird mistake. She didn't remember ordering a poster online. She also didn't recall buzzing him up to her door. She mentally shrugged and propped the picture up next to the TV which had segued from the nightly news into a history program about Nero’s _Domus Aurea_.

All day long Cornelia’s iPod had been playing Bach, Beethoven, and Puccini. Cornie found that a bit baffling since she’d never downloaded any classical music.  While listening with half an ear to Mozart and the other to Suetonius’ description of a banquet, she suddenly had an utterly, utterly _bril_ idea.

What Gotham’s economy needed was a party! Not just any party, either! Gotham needed the greatest party that it, nay, the _world_ had ever seen! No expense would be spared. All the wealthiest of scions in the city, _nay_ , the _world_ would be invited. Only the most lavish of hotels could host it. She grabbed a pen and a notepad and began jotting down ideas. What she needed was a theme. Cornie was stymied. Her eyes roved around the room, passed over the poster ofMarie Antoinette in court dress by Vigée Le Brun, screeched to a halt somewhere near the dreary Kokoschka, and u-turned back toward Marie Antoinette. Yes. YES! French! Rococo! Baroque! Neo-classism! The royal court at Versailles! It was absolutely perfect! Cornie would rebuild the Palace of Versailles in Gotham, using all local materials and labor giving the working class jobs, and the _Bon Ton_ would come and gentrify and make Gotham the new 'it' place to be. Like Paris or London or New York. Yes, utterly, utterly brilliant idea! What could possibly go wrong?

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Mr. Bradley-Martin came into the room."Yes, sweetie?"

"I want to have a party."

"Aren't you going to that deb dance thing next week?”

"Daddy, I want to have my _own_ party _this_ week!"

“Oh, fine.” Mr. Bradley-Martin took out his credit card. “Don’t go overboard, Princess, you know the IRS is auditing me.”

“Thank you, daddy! I just need a few million dollars!”

“Just promise me you’ll keep it under ten.”

****

****

** Daily Planet **

**Bradley-Martin Super Sweet 16**

**Criticism Of Lavish Expenditure By Charitable Organizations**

_A huge topiary of “Empress Cornelia”, 20 feet high, stood in the entrance hall; and the pillared arcade ran for a whole mile. An enormous pool, more like a sea than a pool, was surrounded by rooms made to resemble cities and by a landscape garden consisting of plowed fields, vineyards, pastures and woodlands. Here every variety of peacocks roamed about. Parts of the hotel were overlaid with gold and studded with precious stones and mother of pearl. All the dining rooms had ceilings of fretted ivory, the panels of which could slide back and let a rain of flowers, or of perfume from hidden sprinklers, fall on his guests. The main dining room was circular, and its roof revolved slowly, day and night, in time with the sky. Champagne was always on tap in the fountain. 10,000 flower arrangements decorated every surface and rose petals and perfume cascaded from the ceiling. Dinner was a 7 course banquet of Royal ballotine of pheasant and Pureed chestnut soup with truffles..._

** Gotham Gazette **

Bradley-Martin Family Drops $10 Million On Teen’s Birthday And $10 Charitable Donations

**Income Disparity No Concern For Guests Of Bradley-Martin Family**

_Here it is, the middle of the severest and coldest winter since the winter of '89. The suffering of the homeless in this city has been beyond belief. Does the hideous spectacle of poverty conearn Mr. and Mrs. Wealthy Gothamite? No! Such misery is greeted with apathy and indifference...._

** City News **

City Ransacked For Flowers and Silk and Antique Jewels

No Expense Spared For Bradley-Martin B-Day Party

_What does it cost to dress like French Royalty for an evening? Between ten and fifteen thousand dollars! Yes, that’s what each of the 1,200 guests attending the Bradley-Martin party spent on costumes. Hardly surprising Marie Antoinette wound up in the guillotine…_

** Gotham Globe **

Cornelius Bradley-Martin Summoned To Appear Before Grand Jury

Federal Grand Jury Indicts Wealthy Gotham Socialite On Tax-Evasion

_A federal indictment charges Cornelius Bradley-Martin with tax evasion and conspiring to defraud the IRS by concealing money in a bank account in the Caribbean island of Nevis._

_Mr. Bradley-Martin pleaded not guilty to the charges before a federal magistrate yesterday. Attempts to reach the Bradley-Martin's attorney, Mitchell Shelley, for comment Friday were unsuccessful…_

** The Metropolis Star **

Occupy Gotham Attendance Reaches Tens Of Thousands

Protesters Demand Tax And Labor Reform

_Protesters are demanding that Congress restore the Glass-Steagall Act and raise the federal minimum wage from $7.25 per hour to a living wage and expand eligibility for Medicaid…._

_…Wealthy Gothamites lay low while public fury howls for the 1% blood._

 

Florence Evelyn Thaw née Nesbit of the Tarentum, Pennsylvania Nesbits, Vice-Chairperson of the Debutante Committee of the Society for American Prairie States’ annual cotillion surveyed a pile of messages on her escritoire whilst silently praying her migraine would abate. Florence was staring social disaster in the face. They’d lost so many debutantes and vendors that it was beginning to look as if they’d have to cancel cotillion this year. Just then her office door banged open and the erstwhile “Mr. Lexington” sailed in followed by his two female body guards.

“Florence, _darling_!” He sang merrily. “I’ve heard you’ve been having a bit of trouble with your soirée! I came as soon as I heard about your difficulties”.

“Wha--?”

“No need to thank me! I have absolutely everything under control!”

“ _What_? What are you talking about?”

“I’m here to save the day!”

Mrs. Thaw yanked her desk drawer open and took out a large bottle of aspirin. “Mr. Lexington, how exactly do you propose to do that? Cotillion is tomorrow and we have only a handful of debs participating. Not to mention our party planner and caterers cancelled on us.”

“I have an event planner with a whole list of caterers, florists, musicians, and assorted flunkies along with an entire theatre company downstairs setting up!”

“Mr. Lexington!” Florence Thaw shrieked. “How dare you-?”

“Flossie? Can I call you Flossie?” He _still_ didn’t bother to wait for Florence to say, ‘absolutely not’ before continuing. “Do you want to be the first person who cancels the Society for American Prairie States’ annual cotillion? A tradition that began when the Society for American Prairie States was founded? A tradition that began when the great state of Kansas entered the Union? Do you really want to be known as _that_ person, Flossie?”

‘Flossie’ visibly waffled. “Er, well..”

“No, you most certainly do not!”

Florence Thaw shook out three or four aspirin in her hand and swallowed them dry. “About the young ladies, do they have appropriate attire? The dress code requires them to wear a period appropriate gown.”

“Oh, yeah, I got a few things from the Met for them to wear.”

“Beg pardon?”

“You want them to dress up like it was 1861, right?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“They didn’t like the reproduction gowns. Too much _Gone With The Wind_ and not enough Charles Frederick Worth, so they dropped by a few museums and picked out dresses from there.”

“Mr. Lexington, the Met’s Costume Institute is not _Macy’s_. Their exhibits are neither for sale nor for rent or loan. They’re works of art for display only. You cannot simply swan in and borrow them for a fancy dress ball. I think that your will have to redirect your daughters back toward the costume rental company.”

“Oh, no, they were happy to lend them out after I sent them a donation. The final fittings were last week.”

Florence Evelyn Thaw née Nesbit of the Tarentum, Pennsylvania Nesbits, Vice-Chairperson of the Debutante Committee of the Society for American Prairie States’ annual cotillion was no damn fool despite first impressions. “Mr. Lexington, who in the hell _are_ you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bradley-Martin Ball was a costume ball at the Waldorf Hotel in New York City on the night of February 10, 1897. Cornelia Bradley-Martin organized the ball, with the intention of making it "the greatest party in the history of the city". The Bradley-Martins spent approximately $9,700,000 in today's money to throw the ball. Eight hundred socialites spent over $400,000 imitating kings and queens. After the ball religious leaders preached against its excessive consumption and flaunting of wealth and privilege. The government promptly raised the taxes of the Bradley-Martins and their fellow partiers. The public were so offended by the gross display of excess that the Bradley-Martins returned to England in disgrace.
> 
> Cornie’s Super Sweet Sixteen was inspired by Suetonius’ description of Nero’s party palace.


	11. Tab B Into Slot A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvel’s current Earth-616 New Avengers ‘Illuminati’ storyline is the pits and DC's The New 52 Futures End has been a hot mess of boring and they've decided to "re-boot" Smallville Season 11.

**'Man Of Steel' Is But An Undigested Bit Of Beef, A Blot Of Mustard, A Crumb Of Cheese, A Fragment Of An Underdone Potato...and I Refuse To Acknowledge It's Existance**

 

Kal-El and family were taking a well-earned vacation at the Lex Towers penthouse while the rest of the Justice League chilled out at the watchtower with their new pals from that other earth. 

Earth A and Earth B spun lazily around the sun in a perfectly synchronized pas de deux. The impending collision of two realities had been thwarted by the combined efforts of Superman, the Justice League, and Oan technology. Oh, yeah, those other guys on Earth B helped out too. Sort of. Well, anyway they tried their best. Not that the bomb they'd built was a good idea. Probably would have ended up blowing up the planet if Jay Garrick hadn't disarmed it at light speed and dumped into a boom tube straight to a black hole. Funny, except for Captain A-Helmet, they hadn't seemed all that grateful for the rescue…. 

'What were they called again? Revengers? The Vengefuls?', mused Clark Luthor Kent. Just then Connor, Kon-El, Kon-El, Kon-El, Match, and Cir-El came barreling into the room arguing loudly about the relative merits of the latest blockbusters showing at the local drive-in. 'Whatever', thought Clark while stretching out just a bit more on the sofa. 'I am on vacation.' 

Just then Lex sauntered into the room after them and slung himself down next to and partly on top of Clark. "What are your plans for the afternoon?"

"Absolutely nothing!" 

"I have given the oldest and most responsible clone the keys to my least favorite Porsche and enough money to fund a trip to the movies plus snacks for themselves and their cousins and friends." Lex said whilst nibbling on Clark's ear. "Are you sure you have nothing planned?" 

"Hmm, something might have just popped up in my appointment book" 

"Eeeeew! Gross, they're fornicating again!", said the youngest Kon-El.

"Great." Match rolled his eyes. "Like this place needs anymore Luthor-Kent alien hybrid clone babies running around." 

Lex raised his eyebrow at that. Clark blushed cherry red and shuffled his feet. 

"Puuuulease! Every time you two start groping each other..." The oldest Kon-El jerked his head toward Lex, "...Father ends up abducting another one of us from some alternate reality because your alternate reality counterpart is neglecting ‘your’ genetic love child!"

"This time around steal a couple of sisters for me, okay, dad?" Cir-El. “Me, Nasty, and Lori think the Luthor family is way too much of a sausage fest. We need more girl power around the place.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Lex replied dryly.

“Lex! We aren’t stealing any more children.”

“I can’t help myself, Clark. You, me, and mad science make beautiful babies together."

**Author's Note:**

> This entire fic exists because I wanted Alfred Pennyworth to say, “Excuse me, madam, I speak Jive.”. _Hangs head in shame._  
>  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fXSLcYQHqFQ
> 
> The Super-Sons first appeared in World's Finest Comics #215 (January 1973). Yes, they really did talk jive in a desperate attempt to attract the youth market to read comic books. To further their "cool" reputation, writers had them rebel against their famous fathers by going on the run as pants-wearing crime solvers (no, really they rebelled by wearing _pants_ instead of tights) and dancing! To funky music! Sometimes with each _other_ instead of girls! They also did PSAs concerning such topics as the dangers of feminism. (You'll fall off a roof and _die_ , ladies, if you dare act "like a man"!) The Super-Sons were so bad they were killed off and then ret-conned out of existence. They were brought to life again in a 1999 issue of _Elseworlds_. Absolutely no one has missed them at all even though their creation is even more cracky than Kon-El's.
> 
> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Super-Sons
> 
> Thanks to _Young Justice_ being cancelled (for the most horrible reasons too), Wally West is dead.
> 
> http://io9.com/paul-dini-superhero-cartoon-execs-dont-want-largely-f-1483758317


End file.
